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Notes from SXSW: R.E.M. vs. Vampire Weekend

Note: Since I won't be getting to Austin till tomorrow morning, we've asked VF.com's own Alexandra Marvar to bring you the early word. —M. Hogan

Tuesday evening—the last night of the SXSW Interactive Festival and the eve of the music fest—got off to a scattered start. Arriving from Marfa, I spent my first moments in Austin chasing pages of my scrupulously assembled tip sheet down Bravos Street as they fluttered out the open door of my rental Prius. After catching up with fellow music lovers on the raw-hide couches at the old-timey Driskill Hotel, we set out to find the cheapest drinks on 6th Street. (Success: One buck.) Eventually, I found myself way across town, at a hole in the wall. Actually, make that The Hole In the Wall.

"Remind me never to get famous—it makes people strange," Syd Straw, a former Pat Benatar backup singer, shouted from the stage. Never mind that Mike Mills of R.E.M. was standing right next to her, playing bass. The other four-fifths of R.E.M. were here too. Peter Buck and the Minus Five were also on the ticket. Michael Stipe listened in the doorway, never quite making it into the venue.

Mike Mills performing with Syd Straw. Photo by Alexandra Marvar.

Hole in the Wall on Tuesday night. Photo by Alexandra Marvar.

Literally every day since late January, someone has mentioned Vampire Weekend ("That Vampire Weekend, so shamelessly catchy," "Oh, your new loafers are so Vampire Weekend," "There's Rostam from Vampire Weekend—what a ridiculous shawl he's wearing"), and more of the same will be inevitable this week. But last night was the first time I've heard someone—a member of R.E.M.'s entourage, as it happened—use the band's name as a curse word. Apparently, a recent Spin review suggested that Vampire Weekend, in its full year and change of existence, had paid its dues in the music business. I guess you can imagine how that sounds to someone who's watched Stipe and co. swim upstream for 25 years.

Some SXSW survival notes:

The Austin police are enforcing a city-wide initiative called PEST. (One officer said it stands for "Pestering Enforcement Safety something.") This includes citations for jay-walking. "If we could give tickets for obnoxious yelling, we'd be doing that," the officer told me. Be on your best pedestrian behavior.

According to these same police officers, Eric Clapton, Jimmy Page and Ringo Starr are in town this week playing under a fake band name. That's either a great scoop, or I just got punk'd by a cop.

An "industry person" divulged last night that it takes five mentions of a band for the name to really stick in someone's head. And the way A&R and label kids talk, that only takes about 90 seconds, so prepare to be subliminally compromised.

Just because you hear a rumor that Moby's going to be spinning at a bar, that doesn't mean he'll be there. And if you find yourself spending any part of the evening chasing phantom D.J. sets (by, oh, say, Moby), you need to check your parties list and re-assess your priorities.